


why can't we be alone and watch?

by awwcoffeenooooo



Series: we punish our hearts // kastle mini fics [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Coffee date, F/M, Fluff, Frank can't text
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 08:53:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awwcoffeenooooo/pseuds/awwcoffeenooooo
Summary: So when her phone starts suddenly blasting Guns of Brixton (an ode to a less-than-amused Frank a few months back), she’s not at all struck by Frank’s god awful hours. Just the fact that he has to intrude onhers.Not Matt, 5.23amdo you want to get coffee with me? 8?





	why can't we be alone and watch?

**Author's Note:**

> title from pierce the veil's floral and fading
> 
> _so why can't we be alone and watch as you all just disappear?_

When she gets the text after five, it’s with a roll of her eyes. **  
**

Karen’s already awake, of course. Between the paper and the dreams, she’d be a fool to ever attempt to sleep past the ungodly hour of six.

But usually, the brief hour between her mind’s waking and the sky’s lightening are her own. There’s no one to bother, the coffee is hot, and the calm seeps into her joints. It’s peaceful. It’s hers.

So when her phone starts suddenly blasting Guns of Brixton (an ode to a less-than-amused Frank a few months back), she’s not at all struck by Frank’s god awful hours. Just the fact that he has to intrude on  _hers_.

 

> Not Matt, 5.23am
> 
> _do you want to get coffee with me? 8?_
> 
>  

She sighs. It’s Frank, so she doesn’t really know what she expected. Coffee and murder and corrupt dealings have sort of become their thing now, so it’s nothing unusual. Though a “hey i know you’re gonna hear about the shooting at work tomorrow but don’t freak out i’m fine” would have been nice. Just once.

Instead, he’s back at it, and Karen is going to be responsible for picking up random files and pissing off Ellison in the process. No big deal.

But that doesn’t stop her from smiling as she types.

 

> Karen, 5.24
> 
> _sure. is anne’s ok?_
> 
>  

> Not Matt, 5.24
> 
> _see u there_
> 
>  

* * *

 

Her first tip off that maybe she’d missed something is when she arrives five minutes to eight and there’s not one Frank to be seen.

He’s notoriously early, always. Fifteen minutes til is his idea of on time, though thirty is optimal. Karen can’t fault him for it, especially when he’s always scoping out the area to make sure it’s safe. Or, well, safe as it can be with Frank Castle and Karen Page sitting within a few feet of each other. They’re rather drawn to conflict, she’s found.

Her second is when she does locate him, he’s not in the back corner as always. Frank’s sitting by the window, close enough to the glass to see out, but somehow also secluded. She can’t help a snort of amusement.

And are those … flowers?

Karen steps closer, and – yes. That is definitely Frank Castle, Punisher of Hell’s Kitchen, holding a buttery yellow and red tipped bouquet of roses. Her brows furrow, but as soon as he sees her, he stands, expression a tad hopeful.

“Uh, hi,” he offers, obviously trying not to smile too widely.

Karen smiles, tilting her head a bit. “Ah, good morning.” she eyes the bouquet a moment, heart sinking, then offers hesitantly, “Is it dangerous?”

He lets out a snort, looks away a moment, then gently reaches out to pass her the bouquet. “No, not … not this time,”

They stand awkwardly for a moment, Karen puzzled and Frank seemingly guilty (or, more than usual, her mind supplies).

“Ah, let’s sit?” he gestures.

After she’s slid gently into the booth he selected, she sees her usual Americano is already there, still hot and paired with a scone.

“Frank, what –” Karen stops, looks down at the bundle of eleven stems in her lap, then back up at him. There’s a new cut on his brow – tiny, but fresh. “What’s going on?” she hisses.

“I … I thought you got my text?”

“Well, yeah,” she shakes her head, on the verge of disbelieving laughter. “I’m here. Eight, at Anne’s. You wanted to get coffee and talk about something,”

“I – goddamn it,” he breaks eye contact to dig out his cell. “Yeah, I um … I asked you on a date. This morning. I thought you knew.”

“Frank.” Karen stares at him, trying very hard not to smile. “You literally ask that anytime you need help on a lead.”

“Yeah,” he nods, grudgingly. “But I thought, I don’t know …”

She can’t help laughing this time, watching as his ears pink just a little from under his baseball cap.

“So is this – not okay? Because we can just forget it, really, if you –”

“No, trust me,” she shakes her head, still grinning. “This is okay, Frank. More than okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,”

Karen watches him for another moment, lips pursed, before she breaks out in a small snort.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee, and then pasting on a shit eating smile. “That makes two of us,”

She has to kiss him for that.

 

* * *

 

_yellow roses with red tips – I’m falling in love with you._

_eleven roses – you are the most important thing in my life._


End file.
